The Women in Black: A Novel

“Department store particulars are part of the charm of The Women in Black, a deceptively smart comic gem that tracks four women through the pandemonium of one holiday season in 1950s Sydney. Laced with a fierce intelligence that captures the limited options for women and postwar xenophobia views, it’s also a love letter to department stores of yore.” --Susan Coll, New York Times Book Review "When I need a mental escape from a stressful situation, I often fantasize about wandering around one of the grand department stores of my New York City childhood...xa0Most of those palaces of consumption are gone but, fortunately, Scribner has recently published the first American edition of thisxa0tart, beguiling novel." - Maureen Corrigan, Fresh Air “A witty novel set in a posh department store in 50s Sydney, where four women are at work in Ladies Dresses. The author unpacks their secret yearnings as they wake up to—and resist—the limitations of their lives. Delicious.” – People Magazine “Like the deceptively simple (but perfectly crafted) little black dress, this delicious and sly masterpiece works its magic from the very first sentence. Once you slip into its folds-- full of hope and new beginnings, of luck and laughter and love-- I dare you not to catch yourself smiling, and wanting to twirl, for days and days and days.” – Sarah Blake, author of The Guest House and The Postmistress "A little gem... shot through with old-fashioned innocence and sly humour." — Vogue "A highly sophisticated work, full of funny, sharp and subtle observations...a small masterpiece." — Sunday Times (UK) "There is something special about The Women in Black . St John's tone isxa0a joy: brisk, perfectly managed and, in its disdain for clutter, oddly life-affirming. She casts an airy spell with the deftness of her prose, which moves gracefully, swiftly and with perfect manners... conjures a Sydney on the cusp of modern promise; a place where her characters can meet the future with a bright face and step out of the past like an old dress, where limits can be lightly shaken off."xa0 — Delia Falconer, Australian "Seductive, hilarious, brilliantly observed, this novel shimmers with wit and tenderness."xa0 — Helen Garner, author of Monkey Grip and The Spare Room "A delicious book. Funny and happy, it's like the breath of youth again." — Jane Gardam "A witty little gem of a tale... instantly transports readers back to a more genteel era." — Kirkus “Funny and light, this story moves quickly as each character navigates the 1950s-era challenges of being a working woman in a male-dominated society with limited options for the happily ever after they all strive for.” — Booklist “Axa0striking debut novel of wit, charm, female friendships and universal dreams... a delightful and uplifting slice-of-life view." -- Shelf Awareness, starred review Madeleine St. John was born in Sydney in 1941. In 1965 she moved to the United States and attended Stanford, and later moved to England to attend Cambridge University. In 1993, she published her debut novel in Australia, The Women in Black . She is author of three other novels including The Essence of the Thing , shortlisted for the Man Booker Prize. St. John was the first Australian woman to receive this honor. Madeleine St. John died in 2006. Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved. Chapter 1 1 At the end of a hot November day Miss Baines and Mrs. Williams of the Ladies’ Frocks Department at Goode’s were complaining to each other while they changed out of their black frocks before going home. “Mr. Ryder’s not so bad,” said Miss Baines, in reference to the floor manager; “it’s that Miss Cartright who’s a pain in the neck, excuse my French.” Miss Cartright was the buyer, and she never seemed to give them a moment’s peace. Mrs. Williams shrugged and began to powder her nose. “She always gets worse at this time of the year,” she pointed out. “She wants to make sure we earn our Christmas bonus.” “As if we could help it!” said Miss Baines. “We’re run off our feet!” Which was quite true: the great festival being now only six weeks away, the crowds of customers were beginning to surge and the frocks to vanish from the rails in an ever-faster flurry, and when Mrs. Williams was washing out her undies in the handbasin that night she had a sudden sensation that her life was slipping away with the rinsing water as it gurgled down the plughole; but she pulled herself together and went on with her chores, while the antipodean summer night throbbed outside all around her. Mrs. Williams, Patty, and Miss Baines, Fay, worked together with Miss Jacobs on Ladies’ Cocktail Frocks, which was next to Ladies’ Evening Frocks, down at the end of the second floor of Goode’s Department Store in the centre of Sydney. F. G. Goode, a sharp Mancunian, had opened his original Emporium (“Ladies’ and Gents’ Apparel—All the Latest London Modes”) at the end of the last century, and had never looked back, because the people of the colony, he saw straightaway, would spend pretty well all they had in order to convince themselves that they were in the fashion. So now his grandchildren were the principal shareholders in a concern which turned over several million Australian pounds every year, selling the latest London modes, and any modes from other sources which looked likely. Italian modes were in the ascendancy at present. “I got it at Goode’s,” as the caption said, on that insufferable drawing of a superior-looking lady preening herself in a horribly smart new frock before the envious and despairing gaze of her friend—the frocks and the poses might change with the years, but that ad always ran in the bottom left-hand corner of the women’s page in the Herald : I believe the space was booked in perpetuity, and the caption had long since become a city-wide catchphrase. Goode’s stayed ahead of the competition by means of a terrific dedication to the modes. They sent the buying talent abroad for special training at the great department stores of London and New York. When the new season’s clothes came into the shop twice a year the staff worked overtime, pricing and displaying, exclaiming the while. “Never mind if it does retail at £9.17.6,” said Miss Cartright, “this model will vanish within a fortnight—you mark my words!” And this they duly did. Read more